


Bloodlands

by 1JettaPug



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bonding, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Father Figures, Fights, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Murder, Nightmares, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14673531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug
Summary: Brothers Rhys and Vaughn never dreamed that there was any truth to the old lullabies about wandering spirits and demons their mother sang to them before she died. But that was before the two were forced to live on the run and sleep in crypts to avoid those who would do them harm. That was also before they metHandsome Jack...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Title? I can't title. Oh well.

**X**

As the first crack of thunder broke, Rhys opened his heterochromia eyes. A flash of sheet lightning broke behind the curtains. Shivering, he threw back his covers and walked over to the bedroom window. It had broken free and was wide open, beating in the gale like a glass wing.

Rhys reached out to pull it back. It required some effort and the rain drenched him in the process, but he managed it with his single arm. He fastened the window but left it just slightly ajar- not wanting to entirely shut out the storm. It had a strange, rough music with too many drumrolls and clashing cymbals. It made his heart race from excitement as well as fear. The rainwater was icy cold on his face and neck and arms. It made his skin tingle.

Casting his eyes out towards the bay, he found it empty of ships. This was no night to be out sailing. The bursts of lightning illuminated the troubled waves, cracking and splintering outside the window.

Across the room and in bed, Vaughn was still asleep- his mouth wide open, one arm flopping over the edge of his bed. Rhys smiled softly and shook his head at his brother. How could he sleep through such a racket?

Rhys walked back towards his bed, his brother's face suddenly crinkled and then his eyes opened. He looked up with a combination of confusion and annoyance. Rhys stared down at his bright green eyes while Vaughn turned his gaze up to his own brown and blue ones.

"Mhmp, brother, why are you all wet?"

Rhys realized that he was dripping rainwater onto Vaughn.

"Sorry, brother." Rhys said. "But there's a storm. Come and look!"

He let Vaughn grab his glasses before grabbing his arm and pulling him out from under his covers, dragging him toward the window. He stood there, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, as another vein of lightning danced in front of them.

"Isn't it amazing?"

Vaughn nodded but was silent. Although they had lived all their days in a little town at the edge of the shore, neither of them had ever really gotten used to the raw power of the ocean- its ability to change from a calm millpond one moment to a raging furnace the next. Truthfully, he didn't like it one bit, but he wasn't about to share that with Rhys. His taller brother was basically fearless compared to him. It was strange. Rhys was as thin and bony, but tough as an old boot and as stubborn as a donkey. Vaughn was physically strong, but he was afraid of dangerous situations, often whimpering and cowering in fear.

"Vaughn, Rhys," said Vaughn's mother as she emerged into their room. "What are you boys doing up at this hour?"

"No, Rhys woke me up," Vaughn yawned. "I was in the middle of a really good dream! I dreamt I was a giant!"

"So you could finally reach the top shelf in the kitchen?" Rhys lightly teased him. "Really though, I don't understand how anyone can sleep through a storm like this. It's too noisy and too beautiful."

"You're bizarre," Vaughn muttered.

Rhys frowned and jutted out his lower lip.

"Rhys, don't pout," Vaughn's mother told him, setting down her lamp on a nearby table. She sat down in the old rocking chair in the corner of the room and motioned for the two boys to come over to her. "Come here, my little boys."

The boys did as she said, coming over and crawling up onto her lap. She hugged both of them close and asked, "Would you boys like to hear an old lullaby?"

"Yes," Rhys and Vaughn answered in unison. They both knew exactly the song she would sing. She'd sung it to them for as long as they could remember.

"This," she told them, softly- as if they hadn't heard this a thousand times before. "Is an old song sung by people long before our time, our father's times and their father's times. This is a song about a group of spirits that wander through the night, through all eternity. They have been wandering since time began and will journey on until the very end of the world... Some are good spirits and help those are lost. Some are evil spirits and will use mortals for their own bidding. It's important that you boys know which one is which."

Vaughn trembled with delicious anticipation, and Rhys smiled from ear to ear as she began to sing to them. As their mother sang, Rhys looked out through the window at the raging storm. He could have watched the storm all night, but he couldn't prevent a long yawn from escaping. The contagious yawn soon traveled to Vaughn, then both boys were falling asleep right in their mother's arms.

She smiled at them. "Let's get you boys back to bed." She carried them back to their beds, tucked them both back into their beds and kissed first Vaughn then Rhys good night. After grabbing her lamp, she looked over at them and whispered, "Good night boys. I love you."

Rhys couldn't resist one last glance at the bay outside. Once more, he pushed back the covers and padded across the floor to the window. The storm had softened just a little and, as the lightning flashed across the sky, he saw the waves had lost some of their turbulence.

And then he saw it.

It hadn't been there before, but there was no mistaking it now. One lone figure, out on the beach. It stood there, as if quite unaffected by the storm around it. As if it were gazing at the calmest of waters. Rhys' eyes traced the outline of its dark silhouette. It made him think of the spirits in the lullaby. The wandering spirits that journeyed forth for eternity. He trembled at the very thought, imagining an evil face to put to the spirit that tried to bring him unease.

And then- **_CRACK!!!_** Lightning struck for its final time that night and revealed the stranger had vanished from sight. Rhys gasped and stepped back from the window. It _was_ a spirit from the song! Oh how exciting and-

Thunder came rolling in for its final time that night, and it shook the entire town for what it was worth. Their little home felt like it was a die in the hand of a small child, being thrown every which way. Rhys stubbed his toe trying to get back into his bed and cursed silently.

Squirming under the sheets, he cast one last glance towards the window. He held his breath for as long as he could, not knowing what to expect. Eventually, though, his eyes grew heavy, his breathing slow and even, and Rhys finally fell under the spell of the sleep.

**X**


	2. The Dawning

**X**

When Rhys awoke and yawned one grey morning, he had no clue that by midday he would have become a killer.

He laid on his old bed that could hardly contain his growing legs, staring at the specks of dust drifting through the air. He often woke up a few minutes earlier than necessary, before Vaughn's father roared for the family to get up. It was his only quiet time of the day, his one chance to lie back idly and grin lazily at the world.

There was just him and Vaughn in their room, then there was Vaughn's five sisters in their room. He could hear them all around him, snoring and shifting in their sleep.

"UP!" Vaughn's father roared from the room between theirs and the girls' and pounded the thin wall a couple of times.

The children groaned and crawled out of bed. The girls bumped into one another as they tried to find their way to the bedpan, the older girls cuffing their younger sisters in the back of the head to try and get there first. Rhys laid where he was, smiling smugly. He had already taken care of his business while everyone else was dead to the world asleep.

" _UP_!" Vaughn's father roared again, slamming the wall just once this time.

"Vaughn," Rhys whispered, nudging his brother in the ribs.

"I'm awake," Vaughn replied, turning to Rhys and blinking the last traces of sleep from his eyes and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand.

"Don't you need to go, too?" he asked.

"I'm gonna burst," he whined.

"You're outta luck, brother." Rhys said. "Caitlín, Bridget, Ciara, Colleen and Aideen are all fighting over it right now."

"Rhys, open the window!" Vaughn pleaded, gritting his teeth. "I can't wait!"

Rhys sighed, throwing his long legs over the side of his bed and strolling over to the window. He grabbed the latch at the top and stepped out of the way as Vaughn basically fell out the window before he burst.

While Vaughn relieved himself, Rhys searched for their clothes. He pulled his clothes on, and he threw Vaughn's out the window to him.

"What's keeping you?!" Vaughn's father yelled, sticking his head into the boy's room and glaring at Rhys and his son through the window.

"Coming!" They replied. Rhys leaned out the window and extended his arm to Vaughn, who grabbed it to lift himself back in.

"Thanks," he said, adjusting his glasses the moment his boots hit the ground.

" _Boys_!" Vaughn's father filled the door-frame and squinted at them, deciding whether or not to punish them for not listening to him. In the end, he just sniffed and withdrew. Vaughn let loose a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Rhys pulled Vaughn along by the shoulder. "C'mon," he said. "They're gonna eat all the meat before we get there."

"Alright," he sighed, hurrying along beside him and into the crowded kitchen, where his sisters were already making short work of breakfast.

Ever since Vaughn's mother died from disease only two years ago, their funds had been cut in half, forcing the children to take responsibility and get jobs in order to help their father get food on the table. There was never much to eat since they were growing boys and girls, and those who grabbed first got the most. Their father, who had already eaten, shuffled off to work at the docks and left some strips of pigs' ears for them. The girls got them since Rhys and Vaughn were late, and the boys had to make do with stale bread and water.

The boys ate in silence in a corner of the kitchen while the girls sat at the table. They watched the outside world, which was cold and rainy, from their cozy corner inside. Even though Vaughn's father hadn't lit up a fire that morning- he'd do that in the evening, when he returned from work- the room was very warm with all of them crammed into it.

"Get to work already!" One of the girls- Caitlín, maybe- yelled at the boys. "Or do you want to help your sisters get ready for their shifts? Or maybe you can help with the chores for once."

"Or you can go ahead and gut the fish for dinner tonight." said another- possibly Ciara. They all sounded the same when they were yelling at them.

"I don't want to help gut the fish father brought home, Rhys..." Vaughn nudged his brother. "I hate seeing all that blood and guts... Just, eck... It's disgusting."

"Just a few fish, Vaughn." Rhys chuckled, lightly. "We can get another piece of bread if we help."

"You're just saying that because you have one arm and aren't allowed to gut them." Vaughn pointed out. "And we can't. We'll be late."

Rhys scowled, "We've loads of time,"

"No," Vaughn said. "Hugo is doing his inspections today. If we're late, then he'll beat the shit out of us."

"He did his inspections a few days ago!" Rhys growled out.

"Well, he's doing them again today."

Rhys growled again, kicking a nearby barrel over.

"The barrel doesn't deserve that kind of treatment, Rhys." Vaughn sighed. "Ready?"

"Sure," he sighed. "Fine. Right as rain, brother."

"Then let's go." Vaughn pushed his glasses back on his face, and the two boys, neither yet a teen, headed off to work.

X

Rhys and Vaughn wound their way through the narrow, filthy streets of their little town to the local factory. Though it was early, the city was already bustling with life. They were all there; people on their way to work at the docks, sailors searching around for the nearest hooker to sleep with, or poor beggars asking for spare coins.

Traders had set up stalls in the gloom before dawn and were busy haggling and selling fruit, vegetables, meat, shoes, clothes, pots, pans, and more. Rhys and Vaughn occasionally went to look at their stalls and listened to the traders boast about their exotic wares from countries that the boys had never even heard of. They loved to spend their free time ogling the worldly traders and their goods, dreaming of travel and adventure.

But they had no time this morning for ogling and dreaming. They continued to march down the sidewalk, just glancing around and noticing all the people starting to get up and rush about, carrying packages, shouting to one another, and making a general hubbub.

"Real busy this morning, isn't it?" Vaughn said, barely keeping pace with Rhys' long strides.

"Kinda nice, though," Rhys mused.

"Nice?" It wouldn't be the word he would use to describe this busy madness. Crowded, cramped, and filthy seemed more appropriate. But, nonetheless, the dull roar that all the hustle and bustle created did make a sort of rhythm in the air.

Before long, they reached the end of the sidewalk, Rhys made sure to grab Vaughn's hand, keeping a tight grip on it as he looked across the street at the many horses, carriages, and people passing by.

"Wait for it... Now!"

They both ran full into the street, with Vaughn trailing only a little bit behind Rhys.

"Arughh!" Vaughn yelped as a horse's hoof nearly squished his foot. He continued to shout and panic as Rhys wove them through the complicated maze of people, hooves and wheels. "I HATE crossing this street every day!" he cried out, crossing his arms over his chest in frustration when they were finally back on a sidewalk.

"Same," Rhys nodded. "But we'd be late taking any other route."

Vaughn shook his head but stopped when his eyes caught sight of something familiar. An old wooden gate had been left open between two shops that morning, allowing anyone to walk through it and out to a wide field the town's children enjoyed playing in. It was such a wide space, devoid of bricks and buildings and was instead filled with trees and bushes. All the plant-life was so bright and green and beautiful thanks to the rain that had fallen there, and he could just make out the sound of people, children, laughing.

There were probably dozens of children running around, beating balls around with their sticks and just having a grand ol' time.

Rhys' hand landed on his shoulder. "Remember when we were the ones having fun out there?" he asked him.

"Yes," Rhys sighed. "Feels so long ago..."

"Brother... I-"

"No, no," Rhys shook his head. He pulled Vaughn along and away from the gate. "Don't worry, brother. I'll make sure we're the ones having fun soon. I'll come up with a plan, and then we'll be on top before next spring!"

"You always say that..." Vaughn muttered under his breath. Secretly, though, he always hoped that Rhys was right. He wanted to believe that they would soon rule the world and never have to worry about anything ever again! They wanted riches, power and security! But... Those things were quite a lot to ask when they were poor unimportant fisherman's children in a poor little town.

A fool's fantasy, yes. But what a fantasy it was for the likes of them.

The two boys had often discussed their plans for the future. The world outside their town was a place full of mystery and intrigue. Vaughn wanted to visit the great cities, rub elbows with the upper class a bit, get a real proper education from a university and become an accountant. He'd be set for life! Rhys wanted to travel abroad and climb the pyramids, sail across the ocean, hunt the most ferocious of beasts and obtain power. He wanted to rule like a king and have all the respect and power that came with such a title!

But... Both boys knew that that was unlikely. They would probably remain working at their factory, or perhaps at the docks when they were older, marry in their teens, have children of their own, and never ever venture beyond the outskirts of their town where they'd been born.

But they could dream. No matter how poor they were, the two of them could always dream of better days and better lives.

They arrived twenty minutes early for work, but Hugo was already outside the door, a pencil in one hand and a board and papers in the other. He had that same cocky smirk on his greasy face and his hairpiece was already sliding off a bit to the side. Rhys had always wanted to make a jab about it, but he knew that would get him whipped harder and faster than anything.

Hugo Vasquez was their foreman. He was a cruel man, regular beatings for the children who didn't do what he asked and beatings for those who complained about the beatings of others. He produced good results and kept costs down, though, so the owners never saw a problem with him. But for some reason they didn't tolerate Henderson's kitten beating, and that left Rhys, Vaughn and all the other children mighty confused.

Vasquez disliked Vaughn intensely. The small boy was too smart for his own good. He did a fine job of hiding his intelligence, but he gave himself away at times like this. Only he was able to second-guess Hugo. These two boys almost always turned up early on days when he did inspections, and he wasn't convinced that Rhys was the top brains of the outfit.

"You're early, ladies!" Hugo barked when the boys stopped in front of him, as if being early to work was now considered a major crime.

"Early bird catches the worm," Rhys said in response.

"Ahuh, sure," Hugo rolled his eyes but decided not to press the matter. He just scribbled something down on his papers and kept his eyes out for his other workers.

Their jobs at the textile factory were backbreaking. Twelve to fourteen hour days, working until they met their quota. The chemicals from the dyes filling his lungs and making him sick and dizzy. On occasion, one of the smaller kids working would get their hand stuck in one of the machines, or worse, their arm or torso. Some kids would joke around and say that that's how Rhys lost his entire arm, but Vaughn always yelled at them when they joked about his brother's disability. Rhys would normally have to drag Vaughn away before he got dragged into a fight.

Once past Hugo, the boys made their way to the open factory floor to begin their shift. It was a hard life, yet there were others worse off than Rhys and Vaughn. Some of the children were slaves, brought in by Henderson, kept by Hugo from poor or greedy parents. The slaves worked constantly, except when they slept.

The factory primarily produced carpets, but it also manufactured silk clothes for patrons with more money than Rhys or Vaughn could dream of ever possessing. Silk came from the silkworms, and the boys were part of the team responsible for loosening the strands of the worms' cocoons.

They were quick to go into action when the cocoons were delivered, they sorted through them, dividing them into piles on the basis of size, color, and quality. Then they dipped the cocoons into vats of hot water to loosen the threads. Once they'd done that, they passed the cocoons to another team, whose members unwound the threads onto spools, which were finally given to the weavers at the looms.

Rhys and Vaughn would both never forget the first time they dunked their hands into the vats of near-boiling water. Hugo watched, smiling, as Vaughn worked up the courage to stick in his fingers. He laughed when he touched the hot water and jerked away with a yelp. Then he grabbed the boy's hands by the wrists and jammed them in.

Rhys studied his and his brother's hands. They had become callused and cut in many places. Honestly, he didn't mind the calluses, but the cuts worried him. Silkworms were disgusting, filthy creatures. Rhys had seen many children lose a finger or a hand when a dirt-encrusted cut became infected. Some had even died of blood poisoning. There was nothing worse than the stench of gangrene. Sometimes a child would try to hide an infected wound, but Hugo would eventually find out and gleefully cut out the rot with a heated knife or hack off the diseased limb with an ax.

Rhys and Vaughn lived in fear of infection.

Sighing, Rhys reached into his bucket. He took out a few cocoons, steadied himself, then drove his hands into the bubbling vat. The pain was always fierce to begin with, but after a few seconds his toughened flesh adjusted, and he worked without complaint for the rest of the morning.

The hours passed slowly. Dunking cocoons wasn't a very demanding job, and boredom quickly set in. Rhys would have loved to chat with Vaughn, but Hugo prowled the factory relentlessly. If he caught them talking, he would whip them until he drew blood. So everyone went about their work in silence.

Across from Rhys, Vaughn finished dunking another batch of cocoons, then set off at a jog for the pit out back. Hugo reluctantly accepted the need for toilet breaks, but if he caught someone walking instead of running, they were guaranteed a bloody long whipping.

Vaughn looked concerned when he returned from the pit. He leaned over towards Rhys and whispered, "Rhys... One of the owners was with Hugo..."

"What...?"

"They're inspecting the room of the baby worms."

Word spread fast from there. It was bad news whenever one of the owners came to visit. Hugo put on an extra layer of bravado whenever they poked their heads in. He lead the bosses around, an even cheesier smile plastered on his face even though he was sweating like a pig. As soon as they departed, Hugo would take a few swigs of booze, then furiously storm through the factory, lashing out at whoever he could.

Rhys hoped that Hugo kept away and didn't lash out at them today. But then he heard a roar, and every child lowered their heads and dunked cocoons as fast as they could.

Hugo entered the room, his hairpiece about to fall right off his head, growling and glaring. He was pleased to see them cowering in fear below him, but he felt the need to hand out a few beatings.

He cast his gaze around and caught sight of Vaughn and immediately started charging towards him. Vaughn knew he was in trouble, but he worked on, not giving any sign that he was aware of Hugo's threatening presence. Rhys could see that his brother was in for a beating, and he lifted his head to watch. He felt sick and hateful, but there was nothing he could do.

"You're a little shit," Hugo said. "A waste of space. You're a poor boy, and you'll die a poor boy."

Vaughn shrugged.

Hugo caught Rhys' eyes and barked, "What are you looking at, orphan boy!? Get back to work before I cut off your other arm!"

Rhys kept his head where it was since Hugo was quick to turn his attention back to Vaughn. The foreman tried to think of something more cutting, then remembered that he heard the boy's mother had died not even two years ago. "Such a disappointment. Still, I guess I shouldn't have expected less from a whore's son."

Vaughn stiffened up in shock and anger.

"Half the town knew your mom real well," Hugo chuckled. "Betcha didn't know that, boy."

"No, sir." Vaughn muttered.

"They knew her real well," he continued to press on. "Better than your father, I'd say."

"You're mistaken..."

"Am I now?"

"..." Vaughn balled his hands into fists, trying to remain calm.

"Not my fault your mother-"

"Stop..."

"Was a-"

" _Stop._ "

"Cock-sucking-"

" ** _Stop_**!"

" _Whore_!"

"She was _not,_ you sick son a bitch!" Vaughn yelled.

It was abrupt and awful, and before anyone knew it was coming, Hugo already scooped Vaughn up from the floor with one hand. Vaughn cursed at him and hit him with a quick fist. It knocked Hugo's hairpiece right off the head and enraged him even further. Instead of simply beating the boy, Hugo stomped over to the nearest vat and thrust the boy underwater, pushing him all the way to the bottom and holding his head there with one thick, hairy, powerful hand.

Vaughn kicked out wildly. One of his feet struck Hugo right in the face, and his grip slipped for a moment. Vaughn bobbed to the surface to get air before Hugo pushed him down again.

"Let him go!" Rhys shouted, jumping up from his seat and charging over.

Hugo kicked Rhys away. "Keep out of this, boy!"

"Stop it! You're _killing_ him!" Rhys cried out.

"That's what I'm _trying_ to do." Hugo laughed. "Try to keep up, boy."

Since Rhys and Vaughn were both seven years old, they had lived in fear of Hugo Vasquez, but this monster was drowning his brother! Rhys had to do something!

Rhys raced towards the laughing Vasquez and threw himself at him. He managed to knock Hugo over. Vaughn jumped up from the water, gasping for air. " _Vaughn_!" Rhys called out to his brother.

It only took him a couple of seconds to pull Vaughn out from the vat and help him to the floor below. "Vaughn," Rhys held his brother as tight as he could with his only arm. "God! I thought I lost you!"

"... _Rhys_ -" Vaughn coughed, weakly. He reached into his pocket for his glasses and put them on, seeing how frightened his brother's face appeared to be. "God damn..."

"I'm gonna hang you two by hooks!" Hugo growled.

Vaughn cowered below his brother's body, fearing another dip in the vats, while Rhys stood up. He felt a coil of rage snap in him, and he calmly grabbed an old broken knife that had been thrown on the ground earlier. " _Hugo_ ," Rhys spoke softly, "You're never going to hurt my brother again!"

He remember lunging at the man, his hands moving upwards to where his throat was, and the redness that began to cover him. His mouth became twisted into a dark, leering grin, as something vile and inhuman inside him rejoiced at being set free.

When Rhys lowered his hand, the knife was buried deep in Vasquez's throat. He stared at him through a pair of wide, bulging eyes. It had all happened so quick. All he could do was open his mouth and close it, much like a fish. He fell to his knees not a moment later, then slumped to the floor.

Hugo was dead...

Rhys took a few steps back.

" _Rhys_..." Came Vaughn's weak cry.

He turned on his heel, grabbing his brother by the hand and walking towards the exit. Rhys killed a man. He killed a man. In cold blood, he took a life. Realization of what exactly he had just done seemed to strike him like a lightning bolt.

He didn't try to look at the shocked faces of the other children around him. They owed Rhys and Vaughn nothing, and they would only protect themselves. Vaughn would stand by his side, but Rhys knew that Vaughn would suffer for that. Hell, the other children might try to say that they both planned on killing him and both took action.

Fighting the bile rising up the back of his throat, Rhys motioned for Vaughn to get the door handle since he was not letting go of his brother's hand anytime soon. When the door opened up, they ran for their lives.

As if they were just waiting for them to flee, one of the children raised his finger and shouted out, " _Murderers_!"

**X**


	3. Jack The Cryptid

Rhys ran without any real sense of direction, pulling Vaughn along behind him in a tight grip. He knew his home town like the back of his hand, but he wasn't thinking straight, so he didn't think to take alleyways or look for hiding places nearby.

They were both panicking. Vaughn because he was nearly murdered without a thought. Rhys because he had just killed a man. Their hearts were pounding louder than thunder.

Vaughn tripped often, scraping his legs and hands. Rhys paid him a few concerned glances before yanking him back up onto his feet and returning to his fast pace. Eventually, he was able to think to pull Vaughn up on his back, saving his tiny legs from trying to keep up with his ridiculously long strides.

"Rhys...!" Vaughn cried, softly. Rhys barely registered that his brother had said his name. His head was a bedlam of noise and terror, and his only clear thought was to run! Run as fast as he could!

If he did try to think, then only the worst would come to the forefront of his mind. A mob, swiftly hunting the two of them down and giving one hell of a chase.

Rhys glanced behind him to look for pursuers, and he managed to run straight into a wall and fell with a cry. Beside him, Vaughn trembled attempting to put his glasses back on his face from where they'd fallen off. Rhys let him put them back on before jumping to his feet again.

"Rhys!" Vaughn croaked.

Rhys looked down at him.

"Give me a minute, please!"

Rhys shook his head. "We don't have time to waste! We've got to outrun the hangman!" With that said, he pulled his brother back up onto his back and continued on. He took several turns down some back alleyways, leaving behind the neighborhood he was sure the two of them had spent their entire lives. He took the quickest route to the outskirts of the town he knew, thanking God that there wasn't a soul around to see them. What a sight they must have been; two thin, dirty, bloodied, panicked boys just wandering around.

"Rhys..." Vaughn muttered next to his ear.

"Yes?"

"We can't go home, can we?"

Rhys almost stopped in his tracks. It never crossed his mind to take them home. But he guessed the townsfolk would look for them there first, but that wasn't the reason he didn't run straight there. If he knew that their father could protect them from the angry mob, then he might have taken them home. If he knew that they would get a fair trail, then perhaps he wouldn't be taking them to the outskirts of town. But he knew better. Rhys knew that there was no justice in the world. Vaughn knew it, too, but he simply wanted to hear the words come from him.

"They'll hang us both, brother." Rhys sighed. "Except for me, no one cared when Hugo tried to kill you. Factory workers die all the time, and the owners don't give a shit. But a foreman dying..." He shook his head. "An abusive foreman dying- Oh, God forbid he gets what's coming to him."

"And father...?"

"Couldn't protect us even if he tried." Rhys diverted his eyes to the ground. He wished he could. All he wanted to do was go home and pretend this was nothing but an awful dream. But he understood what had happened today. He understood that they no longer had a home here anymore. All they had was each other and their marks for death written on their backs.

By the time they cleared the city, it was late into the evening. Vaughn shivered on his back thanks to the cruel bite to the air. All they were wearing were short-sleeved shirts, rolled up pants and boots. Rhys had his socks on, but even they could only provide so much protection from the cold.

They were hungry and thirsty, but Rhys' main concern was the cold. He had to find them some shelter soon or they'd end up a stiff, frozen pair lying on the edge of the road.

He trudged along the main road for a while before breaking off onto a dirt track. He had a vague plan of finding a village and hiding out in a barn or shed until morning, but he didn't know how long a walk it would be. He assumed it couldn't be more than a couple of miles, but it was getting awfully dark and Vaughn was becoming so heavy on his back.

And then it started to rain.

Of course.

Rain soaked them, forcing Rhys to look for immediate shelter. No trees nearby except for the ones near the road, and Rhys feared the mob still out looking for them. Then he caught sight of the heads of tombstones and realized that they were near a graveyard. Where there was a graveyard there was sure to be family crypts! Rhys' eyes lit up in hope when he spotted the small houses for the dead. They were sure to keep dry in one of them, at least for the night.

He jumped off the dirt path and splashed through sodden fields, making his way towards the graveyard and the hopefully sleeping dead.

It was actually quite bigger than Rhys could have thought, long rows of crosses and tombs and a bunch of crypts to the back. He scrambled across the wet ground, only tripping over low graves about three times.

"Rhys, don't ghosts and demons come out at night in graveyards?" Vaughn asked him.

"Close your eyes," Rhys told him. "If you don't see them, then they won't see you."

"Really?"

"Sure," It was an old wives tale he had heard a few years ago, and it probably wasn't very true, but if it calmed Vaughn down, then Rhys had no problem fibbing about it.

Rhys made it to the first tomb and set Vaughn down on the ground. He stretched out his back and groaned before grabbed the chains on the crypt's door. "Help me pull,"

He and Vaughn tugged as hard as they could, but it would not budge for them.

"It's no use-"

_Skrrt!_

”What was that!?

Rhys' head snapped to the side. He could have sworn he heard movement to his right. Quickly, he moved Vaughn behind him, as if expecting some sort of attack. When nothing jumped out from the darkness to kill them, he hurried them along to the next crypt.

The next one did not have chains across its doors. The two boys about wept in joy right then and there. They both grabbed the edge of one of the doors and pulled with all their strength. Vaughn pulled so hard that he slipped and fell, landing in a puddle of rain and mud with a loud splash.

"Vaughn," Rhys held his hand out to his brother, pulling him back to his feet. "You okay?"

Vaughn wiped his muddy hands on his trousers and grumbled, "I'll be better when we're outta this rain."

When they first walked in, they both thought it was pitch-black. But they both sat down near the door and closed their eyes, allowing their eyes to adjust and see fairly well. There were glass panels in the ceiling, letting some semblance of light into the crypt.

"No signs of ghosts..." Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief. Rhys nodded. He looked at the brick walls on either side of them, behind which the coffins were stacked up. An unusual marking right in the middle of the floor, but he could not spot a single spirit.

"We should move in more," Rhys nudged him, lightly. "It's too cool near the door."

Vaughn nodded, rubbing his arms up and down, trying to warm himself.

The moment they went to move, both of their stomachs rumbled. Vaughn winced and looked to his brother. Rhys checked his deep pockets for the tiniest crumb, but he found nothing.

Rhys slumped down against the wall. "I just had to kill Hugo right before our lunch break..."

"Rhys!" Vaughn gasped.

"What? You wish I _hadn't_ had done it?"

" _No_! No! I- I mean," he rubbed the back of his neck. "He deserved it! B- But-"

"Murder is wrong... I know that. But what I did, what I did was _justice_." In all honesty, he wasn't too upset that Hugo was dead. He was just bothered that it was his own hand that did the deadly deed. That and now he and his brother were wanted for murder and would surely be hung the moment they were caught.

"Justice... _Justice_ should have come a long time ago for us, brother..."

"Vaughn," Rhys threw his head back to the wall. "I swear to you, I will get us out of this mess. I promise you that one day we'll live like _kings_! No problems, only _power_!" Vaughn couldn't bring himself to respond, merely take a seat down beside him. He glanced at him once before pulling his glasses off to attempt to clean them.

Then, out of the solemn, sinister silence of the crypt, someone spoke from a spot high above and behind them.

"HA-HAHA-HAH!!! _Kings_ , huh? Well, _kiddos_ , let me tell you, a lot of problems come with trying to obtain power."

Rhys and Vaughn whirled, eyes locking on the wall above the door. Something was attached to the bricks. It was a yellow-skinned beast, with gleaming teeth and short dark hair with a single streak of silver. Its claws were dug into the bricks, and it was studying Rhys and Vaughn with what seemed to be a wicked, bloodthirsty smirk.

Rhys' hand was thrown to Vaughn, gripping his shirt for all it was worth, and he yanked him to his feet and to the door before he could think. He was certain they were dead! The creature would drop down and kill them were they stood, splattering their blood all along the walls of the crypt! Oh, what a merciless end to them!

But to his surprise, the beast never moved, and a second later Rhys and Vaughn were in the doorway, freedom only a couple of paces ahead of them.

"Hold up," the creature told them, and something in its tone made Rhys stop where he stood. He cast his gaze up towards the beast and saw that it had lowered its head. Only a handful of inches now separated their faces. Rhys couldn't find it in himself to even blink, now enraptured by the only other pair of heterochromia eyes he had ever seen. "Where's the fire, _cupcake_?"

"Rhys! Rhys!" Vaughn tugged at his hand, hoping to snap him back to reality. Instead, he pulled too hard and ended up making them both fall back against the jamb of the doorway. While his brother squirmed beneath him, Rhys still hadn't made a move to escape the crypt and run away. When the creature spoke to him, it wasn't threatening like a monster from a fairy tale. It had sounded very much human... and lonely?

"Rhys!" Vaughn cried out below him. 

"W- What are you?!" Rhys asked, standing back up on his trembling legs.

"I believe the question you're looking for is _who_ am I." the creature chuckled, then released its grip, dropped to the floor, and stood. Rhys and Vaughn both gasped. It was actually a man- or at least it had the body and the face of one. But... was that a mask of his face covering his actual face. The two different tones of skin lead them to believe that. The yellow they'd glimpsed was actually the material of the man's clothes, not his skin.

"Y- You aren't a monster?" Vaughn asked, putting his glasses back on. He eyed the man suspiciously, still waiting for him to snap their necks.

"Hell no! I am the goddamn hero!" He chuckled, radiating confidence and power. "What, you boys never hear the tales of grand adventures about me? Never asked, "Bandits? What's a bandit?" because I've been the one keeping areas like this bandit free for years?!"

"You two do come from within Hyperion borders, right?" he cast them a questioning look.

"Y- Yes," Vaughn nodded. "From a little fishing town just south from here."

"Oh. Good. You work for me then. Er, well your taxes do anyway. I thought," he laughed, "I thought I was gonna have to get violent there for a second. Or more violent." 

Slowly, but surely, a light was being switched on in the back of Rhys' head. 

"You-" he started to say but was cut off.

"Yeah, I know. I'm your hero, you're my biggest fan, blah blah blah. Welcome to the club. Just try not to wet yourself, kid. I'm really tired and not in the mood to switch crypts."

He looked down at them, finally starting to notice the distinct lack of awe that he was used to receiving from his peasants. "Ah, okay then... Really? Nothing? Don't you two know who I am?! This handsome face isn't ringing any bells?" He stepped closed to them, allowing them a better look at his face. 

"N- No!" Vaughn said.

His face screwed up in a tight frown, and he looked like he was about to kick the wall in frustration. "It really couldn't have been that long..." he muttered to himself, turning his back to the boys. "I wasn't gone for that long... Couldn't have been..."

Rhys' heart began pounding. He looked to Vaughn and looked ready to squeal in glee. "Vaughn! Don't you know who this is?" he whispered, excitedly.

Vaughn raised an eyebrow at his brother's strange behavior. "...No? Do you?"

Rhys turned towards the man. “You! You’re—“

“Incredibly good looking? Yeah, kiddo, I know.”

"You're Handsome Jack!"

The man turned on his heel and smirked happily. "Bingo! I mean finally! Geeze, took you long enough, cupcake."

To Rhys' surprise, Handsome Jack extended a hand. Sticking out a trembling hand, Rhys reached out, accepting the gesture of friendship. Jack's grip was loose, but Rhys could just feel the intense strength in those fingers.

"This is amazing..." Rhys shook his head in disbelief.

"Well, I _am_ amazing, so yes, I can see how meeting me-"

"I mean," Rhys kept going. "This is impossible... Jack, you're... you're dead."

Jack's eyebrows flew up, and he stole his hand back before he crushed Rhys' in a powerful grip. "Ahh... I'm "dead?" I'm sorry, what's that supposed to mean? Are you... threatening me, little man?"

Rhys held his hand up in defense. "No! Not at all!"

Jack frowned, "What you said doesn't make any sense-"

"I- It's... like I told you: Handsome Jack... is dead."

"That's impossible! I'm right here." he snarled out. He took in a deep breath, then exhaled, attempting to keep calm. "I'm not dead, kiddo. There's waaaay too much left to do. Here," Jack motioned for Rhys to come closer. "Come here, cupcake."

Hesitantly, Rhys took a few steps over to Jack, only glancing back towards Vaughn twice.

"Good, good," he kneeled down in front of the boy. "Now tell me _who_ told you that your _hero_ , **me** , was dead?"

"I- I remember it was written in the post about two years ago," Rhys told him. "Just a short, throwaway column that I almost could've skipped over if not for your name-"

"Written by _who_?"

"A strange woman and her even stranger companions," Vaughn said, trying to recall the few words the town's elders had once used to describe them.

Rhys nodded, then said, "It was definitely her. Lady _Lilith_ -" Jack covered Rhys' mouth with his hand, effectively stopping any sort of words that might follow the name of which he had just spoke of.

"...Excuse me... for a moment, kiddos..." Silent as the grave, Jack rose back to his feet and walked right out of the crypt.

Vaughn looked to Rhys and asked, "What was that about?"

Rhys shrugged, then jumped six feet in the air when they heard the most bloodcurdling scream they had ever heard in their young lives. The air became tense and heated in a second, scratching their throats and strangling their lungs as they inhaled. Lightning began striking closer and closer to the graveyard, causing multiple crosses to burst into piles of rubble on the muddy ground.

Eventually, Jack made his way back into the crypt, barely hiding a limp that neither Rhys or Vaughn had noticed before. He slouched against the inner walls before allowing his body to fall to the floor in a wet, disheveled heap.

It was Rhys who tried to break the silence between them. "Jack...?"

"Shush, shush. No talking right now, okay, kiddo..." Jack shut his blue and green eyes and rest his head back against the wall. "I'm gonna need a few."

"O- Oh. Okay," Rhys muttered, taking a few steps back towards Vaughn. They sat directly across from him, watching, waiting for him to do something. Because what else could they do?

They held their breath, anticipating the next moment might be their last.


End file.
